


What It Takes to Make You Know.

by sans_souci2



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: 4.21, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-01-21 14:22:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1553501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sans_souci2/pseuds/sans_souci2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>4.21 expanded<br/>Steve goes to Afghanistan with Catherine and all hell breaks loose.<br/>Danny's left to pick up the pieces.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Outside of Waikiki Medical Center-_

Danny’s just finished his last physical therapy session and is feeling pretty good until his phone rings and he sees it’s a satellite phone number. Right away the knot that’s been in his stomach ever since Catherine and Steve took off tightens. “Please tell me you two nut cases are on the way home,” he says as soon as the call connects.

“Danny. It’s Steve!”

“What?” His blood instantly feels like it's turned to ice water. “What’s going on?” he screams. “What happened?”

Catherine's voice is breaking up but Danny catches enough to feel like his legs are giving out-"The Tal...iban… have cap...tured him.”

_No._

_No!._

_Oh God, no._

Literally paralyzed he stands there looking out at the moms and kids and people in scrubs hurrying past him. His vision narrows, his mouth goes cottony dry, “What happened?” he asks-not really wanting an answer-just buying time to get his head above the tidal wave of fear surging through him.

Somehow Catherine answers in an almost calm voice.

The fact that she does makes him for some reason angry.

“It happened about an hour ago," she says. "There was a roadside bomb. Steve took a pretty good hit but he was about to stand up and then out of nowhere insurgents were coming at us from everywhere. I was further away so I ran. When I looked back I saw them dragging him off.”

_What the fuck?_

_Does she even know what she just said?_

“Oh my God." It's all Danny can say. _Oh my God._

“I’m back at Bagram now," Catherine is saying, "at Special Ops. They're working on finding him-they're going to send in a SEAL team”

He barely hears what she's saying. "How….how did he look? Was he hurt?”

“He... he was hurt but they got him on his feet- he was able to stand on his own.”

“This is all your fault you know?” The words fly out of Danny's mouth before he know can stop himself.“You dragged him over there," he says, a slow boiling rage building up inside him. “You forced him into this shit show. If he doesn’t make it, I swear to God I’ll never forgive you.”

_There._

It’s out.

It’s exactly what he feels.

“Please Danny. I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

_Too little too late._

His voice goes cold, “So you said they’re trying to find him?”

“Yes. An extraction is being organized out of Bagram’s Special Ops group.”

“So Bagram is where you are, Bagram, Afghanistan?”

“That’s right.I t's a joint forces base, it’s huge Danny-they’ve got all kinds of resources- I just know they’ll find him.”

“Yeah, they’ll find him- but is he going to be dead or alive is the question.”

“Oh God please don’t say that.”

“Look I got to go Catherine. I got to get to where you are. You keep me updated you hear? Any development, any news about Steve you call me right away, you hear?”

“I will Danny and …I’m … I’m so sorry.”

Danny hangs up without replying.

_____~_____

 

”Joe! Thank God you picked up. Have you heard about Steve?”

“I just got off a call.”

“So I need to get over there wherever the hell he is. Can you make it happen?”

“Whew, that’s going to be tough-“

“But you can get around tough. I don’t care what you have to do, do it. I don’t care if I have to fly in one of those big ass military planes with no seats again. I got to get over there and I got to do it now.”

“I hear you Danny. Let me make a few calls and see what I can do. In the meantime pack a bag-a small one-and head for Hickam. If I can swing anything for you-that’s where you’ll depart.”

“I’m on my way.

____~_____

It turns out Joe flies to Bagram with Danny. And yes once again it’s on a huge C-30 transport with jump seats which are really more like butt hammocks than seats.

It’s not like Danny cares.

It’s not like the discomfort even registers.

_The fucking Taliban have Steve._

Nightmarish scenarios playing nonstop in his head block out everything else. Joe has to tug hard on his arm to get him to look up. “Listen to me Danny,” he shouts over the roar of the plane’s engines. “I trained Steve. I know Steve. He’ll be okay.”

“I’m sorry, Joe but you don’t know shit." 

Danny's sick to death of this hoo rah crap. "Steve’s being beat up by idiots who think being blown up is their ticket to heaven," he tells Joe. "Idiots who regularly blow up innocent people by strapping bombs to kids. I don’t care how much training Steve has or how good of a damn SEAL he turned out to be. He’s at the mercy of men who don’t know the meaning of the word. What we got to do-all we got to do is get him out of there.”

Joe doesn’t disagree.

____~_____

Bagram AFB is an ugly sprawling complex but since it’s close to three am when they land, Danny barely sees any of it as their jeep speeds over rutted, dirt and macadam roads.

“Special Ops?” he asks Joe when they pull up in front of a two-story building.

“Yep. This is where the behind the scenes planning and real time monitoring of any SEAL, Ranger or Delta Force op in the region takes place.”

“And there’s an _op_ going on right now to get Steve back?”

“There is. Come on, follow me.”

Once he’s inside, Danny’s nerves take another direct hit.

The room is dimly lit. There are tables with monitors all over them. In front of each monitor is a grim faced man or woman-some of them incredibly uptight and unfriendly looking. Their low voices fill the room with an urgent hum.

Swear to God Danny has to fight the urge to throw up.

Suddenly the room goes quiet.

“Roger that Team Leader, you are good to go.”

“Who are they talking to? What’s going on?” Danny hisses at Joe.

“The team that’s going to get Steve out has just landed,” Joe answers evenly.

“Where?”

“A small village about twenty kilometers from here.”

“And they know exactly where in this village he is?”

“They think they do.”

Danny winces and blinks hard at the screens in front of him.

Reading his mind Joe says, “We got to trust these folks Danny. They do their homework. They know what they’re doing.”

“I sure as hell hope you’re right.”

“We’re inside,” a voice crackles.

Every eye in the room goes to the screen where the voice came from.

“You have a go,” one of the uptight unfriendly ones says.

_A go?_

A go, Danny says to himself. As in permission to save the life of the man he loves like he’s never loved anyone before?

Hell yeah you, whoever you are, you have a go.

Go and do it.

_Please._

The screens in the room fill with greenish blurred images as the SEALs approach a crumbling one story house. Their intel is good; they find the two men posted as guards exactly where they expect to. Shocked grunts as the two insurgents are killed is the only sounds heard until seconds later when one of the advance team hisses, “We’re in-guards neutralized.”

“Why’s the picture green?” Danny asks Joe.

“Their helmet cams are outfitted with night vision lenses, otherwise you’d be seeing very little.”

Danny scans the various screens around him, most are streaming the feed from all eight SEALs; a few show just one SEAL’s feed. Danny takes up position behind a screen with all eight; no way can he stand to miss a single thing. What’s unfolding is like a god awful wreck on the highway; he’s filled with dread at the thought of what he’s going to see but no way can he look away.

The sound of gunfire suddenly fills the room. There’s a blur as insurgents grope for their weapons. The SEALs have caught them completely by surprise and in less than two minutes have taken every one of them out. Danny holds his breath as they search for Steve.

“We have the target!” he hears and strains to bring the shaky images in front of him into focus

What he sees next makes his jaw drop.

_The target?_

Steve.

A beat to shit, bloody, grimacing Steve

“We’re going to get you out of here, pal,” one of the SEALs says kneeling down next to him.

“That will be their medic,” Joe whispers to Danny. “He’s got six months of trauma training the others don’t have.”

Danny says nothing. He just stares dumbly at the screen.

“What kind of damage they do buddy?” the medic asks Steve.

“Broken…ribs,” he grits, holding his breath after each word. “I think… they… might have… messed me up… inside.”

“Inside? What’s he mean?” Danny whispers to Joe.

“I’m not sure. Could be he suspects he’s bleeding internally.”

Danny hears what Joe says but it’s like he’s in a wind tunnel.

_Bleeding internally?_

Frantically, pulse pounding in his ears he scans the screen. Something is definitely wrong; he's never seen Steve look this bad.

Danny watches a pair of hands reach for and lift Steve shirt and even with the greenish, out of focus transmission can see how horribly bruised and bloody his torso is. The medic gingerly runs his fingers over the worst of the mottled damage and Steve hisses in pain.

“So, yeah, your belly’s pretty rigid, pal but, no worries, we’ll have you patched up in no time,” then turning to his team, “Get that stretcher over here now!”

“Oh God,” Danny says to no one in particular. His face has gone deathly white; his fingernails digging into his palms are the only thing keeping him from sobbing.

A canvas stretcher is snapped open and laid next to Steve. Four of the SEALS position themselves around him. “Hold up, the medic tells them, pulling the top off a syringe with his teeth. “Here’s something to make the ride a little easier,” he tells Steve as he plunges the needle into his thigh. “Okay boys, now,” he tells the men who quickly lift him onto the stretcher.

“Easy, easy,” Danny pleads under his breath when he sees Steve’s grimace.

“How… far?” Steve grits.

“We sat our bird down practically curbside. It’s just a few yards from what used the be the front door of this dump.”

The men are already on the move; all but one of the feeds is of their progress though the house. Danny guesses it’s the medic who’s keeping his eye on Steve and stares at the grainy image of his face as he’s jostled and bounced. Eye’s closed, jaw clenched, it obvious he hurts like hell. “Why don’t they knock him out,” he hisses at Joe.

“Wouldn’t be safe; might depress his breathing too much. Also some degree of pain is Steve's friend right now. Adrenalin and cortisol help keep blood pressure up.”

Danny says nothing.

_Never again._

He never wants Steve anywhere near this screwed up universe where pain is considered a friend.

It feels like he’s watching Steve’s pained face for much longer than the three minutes it takes the team to load him in to the chopper. Just as the SEALs are jumping in with him he hears, “We’ve got company boys, two jeeps closing in fast.”

His stomach drops.  _No. Please, no._

Another voice yells, “Get this rig in the air, now!”

Suddenly every feed shows the same thing: two jeeps racing toward the helicopter -their occupants spraying machine gun fire. Danny doesn’t know it at the time but, thank God,  the chopper is a second generation Black Hawk that literally lifts straight up in the air at a rate of several yards per second. “Get out of there!” he screams as the sound of the SEALs returning gunfire blends with the thump thump of its rotors. For several seconds no one in the room breathes or moves. With their eyes riveted on blurry screens, every single man, including Danny who has always claimed to be an Atheist until now, prays fervently. As the jeeps grow smaller and smaller and the flashes from their guns dim, the sound of breaths being released can be heard around the room. Danny’s probably the last one to exhale and even when he does he shares none of the jubilation the men around him do.

“He’s going to be okay, Danny,” Joe says to him putting a hand on his shoulder.

“He’s probably fucking bleeding into his gut,” Danny answers, his voice breaking.

“Yes but they have a top notch trauma unit here and he’s less than eight minutes out. He’ll be in an OR within twenty minutes. “

What’s meant to reassure Danny only tightens the knot in his stomach. “Where are they going to land? I need to be there.”

“Will they land at the Medical Center?” Joe immediately asks the man standing next to him.

“Pretty close to it,” is the answer, “there a landing pad in the field behind it.”

Danny’s already racing for the door. He has no idea where the Medical Center is but he’ll find it. He has no idea if Joe is following him. He doesn’t care. When they carry Steve out of that chopper he’s going to be there to give him holy hell and squeeze his hand and  he doesn’t care who sees him do it.

______~______

 

Standing in that field watching the chopper bringing Steve back from hell has got to be the longest, hardest five minutes Danny ever spent. When the thing finally touches down his fingernails have left deep angry red marks in his palms.

Two SEALs jump out of the chopper and immediately turn to reach back for the handles of a stretcher.

_The stretcher that Steve is on._

Danny has to force himself to breathe as he watches the stretcher being pulled out of the chopper.

 _Oh Jesus_.

They’ve got an IV running and one of the guys is holding it up high. That’s not good. That means Steve’s blood pressure is tanking.

_Hang in there babe._

As soon as they’re out of the chopper everyone is running fast toward him. He catches a glimpse of Steve when they pass. He wants to squeeze his hand-to talk to him but they’re moving too fast.

Steve’s face is white. His eyes are closed. His jaw is clenched. There’s a white bandage around his bare middle. Danny can’t bear to look at him and can’t bear to look away.

_Just be okay, babe.  
_

______~_____

_Bagram Medical Center-PACU-_

It’s cold.

Danny’s wearing the v neck sweater he stuffed in his duffle bag and it feels damn good .

_Beep…Beep…Beep._

He doesn’t know whether to be reassured or scared shitless by the cardiac monitor on the wall behind Steve.

Scared shitless is pretty much where everything he’s seeing is taking him

A nurse, a pretty nurse with freckles and blue eyes checks in on Steve- adjusts setting on his IV pump, lifts up the sheet covering him and eyeballs the big ass bandage strapped across his middle and nods.

Like everything’s okay.

Which, of course, everyone knows it’s not.

_Just wake up and be okay babe._

They are telling him Steve’s doing good but he’s so pale and every breath he takes looks like it hurts so much.

God damn you Steve for being so damn ready to go out there and save the fucking world.

_Please Steve._

Please pull through this and let’s just save each other.

_How about it?_


	2. Chapter 2

 

_Bagram Medical Center-_

“Mr. Williams? “I’m Major Fowler-I was told you wanted to see me?””

Danny stands up so fast the stool he’s sitting on rolls into the cabinet behind him but he ignores it. “Yes," he says. “I -I just want to know exactly what you did in there for my friend.”

 _In there_ is in one of Bagram’s operating rooms where Steve just spent the better part of three hours.

“And your relationship to Commander McGarrett is?”

“I’m his partner-we uh-we work together.” Danny’s mouth has gone haywire. He struggles to get control of it. “But it’s more than that, we’re… we’re friends, really good friends.

Fowler’s scowl doesn’t change.

“Look. I flew all the way out here to make sure my partner was okay. All I want to know is what you did for him in there. Is that too much to ask?"

The surgeon’s expression softens. Who knows why. For sure Danny doesn’t care. All he cares about is getting answers, no, make that assurances, as in solid, no-take-backs-allowed assurances that Steve is going to be just fine.

“I’m not sure how much you know,” Fowler says.

“I know Steve was hit by an explosion and then taken captive by a pack of ass holes who beat the ever loving crap out of him.”

Fowler pulls off his scrub cap and runs his hand over his spiky buzz cut. When he speaks his voice is softer and just a little apologetic. “Basically your partner is lucky to be alive,” he says. "Commander McGarrett sustained significant blunt force trauma to his chest and abdomen-most of it probably thanks to his captors-some courtesy of the explosion.”

Danny nods like he wants him to go on.

_The truth?_

He wants to throw up.

_The truth part two?_

He’s got no choice. He's got to hear this.

Fowler gives him an understanding nod. “The trauma was severe enough to fracture several ribs and rupture his spleen which in turn caused him to lose some blood.”

 _Oh fuck_. It’s worse than he expected.

He looks over at Steve and then up at the two units of blood hanging above him. “So you… you stopped the bleeding?”

“We did but in order to do it we had to remove his spleen.”

 _Spleen?_ He doesn’t know the first thing about it. All he knows is God gives everybody one to start out with.

_And now Steve’s minus his?_

“But he’ll be… okay?”

“He should be fine. People have their spleens removed for all kinds of reasons and go on to live long and healthy lives.”

“Good to know. So… so what else?”

“Well we set two of his ribs with metal fixators. The way they were fractured resulted in jagged bone edges which were threatening to lacerate his lung.”

Danny swallows hard. “They didn’t though? Lacerate his lung-did they?”

“Only superficially. There were however multiple contusions to both lungs-the worst on the right. He’ll need a chest tube for a few days-a device that will drain fluid from the around that lung. He’s also dealing with a broken arm as you can see and a concussion as well as the obvious facial trauma. His injuries are significant but he’s relatively young and quite healthy. He should pull through this just fine.”

_Just fine?_

It’s like Danny’s in a wind tunnel. He has to strain to hear the doctor who's standing right in front of him. “So how long will he be here,” he asks blinking hard to keep Fowler from going out of focus.

“You mean here, in the recovery room?”

“No, here as in when can I take him home?”

“That’s not going to happen for a while. He’ll stay here and be closely monitored for twenty-four hours. If he remains stable he’ll be airlifted to Landstuhle Medical Center in Germany. It’s a level one trauma center where all our seriously injured soldiers go. He’ll probably be there four to five days and then be airlifted back to the states. Where’s home?”

Danny’s head is spinning. _This is bad._ It’s so much worse than he thought. Steve nearly got himself killed. Make that Catherine nearly got him killed.

_Don’t go there._

At least not now.

“Mr. Williams?”

“What?”

“I said, where is home?

“Oh yeah, I’m sorry. Hawaii. Honolulu.”

The major smiles, “Nice place to call home.”

“That’s what everyone tells me but I’m still getting used to it. Listen, when they fly him to Land-to that place in Germany-can I go with him?”

“We don’t usually allow civilians on those flights. You can certainly go there on your on though and you can definitely be with him at the hospital.”

“Okay,” Danny says. “I’ll work something out. Thanks for taking the time to see me. I really appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome. If you have any other questions just have his nurse come find me.”

“Thanks. Thanks again.” Danny watches the doctor hurry off. He’ll give the military one thing-their docs are easier to take than the too-busy-to-give-you-the-time-of-day jokers he’s dealt with on the civilian side of medicine.

He retrieves his stool and rolls it close to Steve’s gurney. “Well you really did it this time babe,” he says sitting down and leaning over the side railing. Steve’s nurse is across the room checking on another patient so he slips his hand through the railing and gently runs his thumb over the back of Steve’s hand. “Looks like you and I are going to take a little jaunt to Germany.”

Maybe he hears him or maybe it’s just that the anesthesia is wearing off, either way Steve stirs. “Hey,” Danny whispers to him, leaning in closer. “Hey.”

It takes a good five seconds before Steve’s right eye flutters open. The left one is swollen shut and so many shades of purple Danny can barely look at it. It’s takes a few more seconds before Steve grits out, “Dan…ny?”

“Yeah I’m right here. You all right?” Stupid question.

Steve does his usual taking inventory thing, closing his eyes and shifting back against the gurney with a grimace. Danny’s seen this so many times; next will come some kind of cockamamie claim that he’s just peachy.

Stupid macho SEAL stuff.

When Steve bites his lip and drops back against the pillows without a word, Danny suddenly wishes like hell for something cockamamie. “Hey babe,” he asks, “what's wrong-are you hurting?”

Steve gives him an almost imperceptible nod that makes him all but lose it. “Nurse!” he yells, jumping up and looking for her and all of a sudden finding it hard to breathe.

“He’s awake,” he tells her as she hurries over. “And he’s in pain.”

“Commander,” she asks Steve “Where are you hurting?”

Danny has to bite his tongue. _Why does it matter, where?_

“My chest … and… my gut.”

“Ok I’m going to give you something that will help right away,” she says filling a syringe from a small glass vial. Danny holds his breath as he watches, silently urging her to hurry the hell up.

As she attaches the syringe to his IV and slowly depresses the plunger she tells Steve about the tube in his chest and the incision in his abdomen.

Steve’s eyes are closed and from the outline of his jaw Danny knows his teeth are clenched. “Why can’t he have one of those continuous drip things-you know the kind where you can push a button if you need more?” he blurts out.

“He can, but later,” she answers. “Until we’re sure of his respiratory status I need to be the one administering any narcotics.”

Steve’s face isn’t pale any more; it’s grey. Sweat’s broken out on his forehead. Behind him the cardiac monitor’s beeps are speeding up. A light flashes on the monitor.

 _Danny hates this so damn much_.

To hell with what she might think. He reaches for Steve’s hands and squeezes it. “Hang in there babe, this stuff will kick in soon. I promise.” He runs his other hand over Steve’s forehead, dodging a sutured cut about his eye. “That’s it, try to relax, let the medicine get to where it needs to go.”

Finally the monitor slows down and Steve’s breathing becomes less labored. The nurse listens to his lungs and checks his bandages. “I’m going to give him the morphine, now,” she tells Danny. As she fills a second syringe she says in a less business like voice. “What I was alluding to when I said I had to manage his pain medicine is that we kind of walk a tightrope with injuries like this. We need your friend’s pain well enough controlled so he’ll breathe normally and keep his lungs fully inflated but if we give him too much narcotic it will depress his respirations and increase the risk of pneumonia.”

“Oh that’s just great.”

As she injects the drug she tells him “Look, it’s going to be okay. I take it very personally if my patients are hurting. I’ll keep him comfortable-I promise” After she drops the syringe in a box on the wall, “So I heard you say you guys work together?”

“Yeah we do but it’s more than that… we’re… we’re good friends. He’s probably my best friend.”

“I could tell you’re… close. This whole experience has to be tough for you.”

“Not as tough as it is for him.”

“Granted. Listen, he’s going to be out for a while. You want to go get some coffee or something to eat?”

“No that’s okay I kind of just want to stay right here.”

“No problem but I insist you let me get you a more comfortable chair.”

She slides a plastic chair over from the next bay. It’s not much better than the rolling stool he’s been sitting on but at least it supports his aching back. After he thanks her and she checks Steve one last time she moves down the row of gurneys to check on the only other patient in the unit.

“So it’s just you and be, babe,” Danny whispers. Thank God Steve looks close to peaceful, or, at least as peaceful as a man with his face beat to a pulp can look. Danny feels like a voyeur, sitting here and staring at him like this but he can’t stop doing it. The entire flight over here he’d imagined what it would be like if he never saw Steve again-never razzed him, never patted his amazingly solid ass, never shared an icy cold Long Board with him at his place. Every time he’d done it, he’d had to stop himself- to throw down the equivalent of a mental kill switch-it was that unbearable to consider the possibility.

Okay so now he has him back.

Kind of.

There are going to be some shaky days ahead but Steve is Steve. He’s going to pull through this and they’ll get back home eventually… and then what?

With the beeping of monitors as a backdrop in a funky looking recovery room in a country he can barely locate on a map, Danny closes his eyes and lets his mind go to a scary but exhilarating place that makes absolutely no sense.

He wants more.

He doesn’t just want Steve back safe and sound.

He looks over at Steve’s sculpted, all be it-bruised cheekbones. He stares at the delicate cleft in his chin and watches the slow steady rise and fall of his chest. He lets his eyes wander over to his inked, rock hard biceps and then down to his corded forearms. And then to his hands.

_Oh God, those hands._

It makes no sense but just staring at him makes Danny feel crazy things in crazy places.

It’s not the first time he’s had insane feelings like this. But, it is the first time he doesn’t immediately jettison them and mentally berate himself.

_What if?_

What if those crazy leers and out of nowhere squeezes Steve gives him all the time mean he wants more too?

_I’m officially losing my fucking mind._

_Or maybe seeing things clearly for the first time?_

It’s an intriguing line of thought that he would like to have explored a little longer but, as usual, Fate or God or whoever calls the shots in his life has other ideas. Suddenly a monitor behind Steve starts screeching like crazy and his nurse comes flying across the room. As soon as she scans the monitors she looks way too worried.

“What is it?” he asks, “What’s going on.”

It’s like she doesn’t even hear him as she yanks the sheet off of Steve. Her  _Oh no!_ makes his blood run cold. When he sees what she’s looking at, swear to God, it feels like it stops running all together.

That big ass bandage across Steve’s entire midsection?

Color it bright red.

Somehow he manages to back away and let people who can help Steve crowd in where he’d been daydreaming just seconds ago. In no time there’s a throng of people around the gurney.

“Talk to me!” a man in scrubs yells.

“Thirty seven year old otherwise healthy male with blunt force trauma to the chest and abdomen, two hours status post spleenectomy and fractured rib reduction with sudden pressure drop and frank bleeding.” Steve’s nurse answers in a tense but steady voice as she spreads absorbent pads over the bloody ones covering him and presses down hard.

“He’s got to go back,” the doctor says, eying the flashing monitors and the blood seeping through Steve’s bandages. “Get another two units ready. Roll him into OR four- there should already be someone from anesthesia setting up in there.”

Not happening.

_It can’t be._

Danny presses up against the wall directly across from Steve and holds his breath until he can’t and then takes a quick frantic gulp of air and holds it again.

Don’t you dare do this to me, he thinks as he watches Steve being wheeled away.

Don’t you dare.

_______~_______

 

_Two days later-en Route to Frankfurt, Germany…_

 

Once again Joe has proven invaluable and somehow finessed a flight to Germany for the two of them. This time it’s on a military charter flight. There's a stop over in Torrence, Italy but at least there are actual seats on the flight and living, breathing flight attendants.

Not that Danny cares about either.

After the past two days he’s pretty much running on fumes. Steve scared the shit out of him with his bleeding stunt and emergency return to the OR and even though everyone keeps telling him he's _stable now_ no way can he relax. To borrow one of his pop’s favorite phrases, he's pretty much just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

They’ve been in the air for about an hour when out of nowhere Joe turns to him and says, “So you should probably know a little something about what Steve went through back there.”

“You mean there was more than being beaten to a pulp?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m not going to like this.”

“I know you’re not but I also know Steve is going to need you when we get him back home and you’re not going to be able to help him if you don’t have the facts.”

Suddenly Danny’s stomach twists. He immediately imagines the most unimaginable and his mouth fills with bile. “Oh God, please don’t tell me they-“

Joe stops him; “There was no sexual assault if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Thank God for that.” After he lets go of the armrests and takes a deep breath, “Okay so then what was there?”

“The insurgents holding Steve were led by an man named Umar Hassan. He heads up a cell that broke away from the official Taliban leadership a few years ago. His position is even more twisted and radical than theirs-in a nut shell he wants to eradicate all US presence in the middle east. To that end he’s pulled some pretty horrific PR stunts to decry the abominable nature of Americans.

“And he pulled one of those stunts with Steve?”

“He was about to. Our boys arrived on the scene literally seconds before he was going to-”

“Going to what?”

Joe looks down at his hands as he answers, “Execute Steve.”

“Execute him? How?”

“He was about to behead him.”

All the air goes out of Danny’s lungs. Along with it comes a helpless sound that says more than any words could. Joe reaches over and squeezes Danny’s shoulder. 

“So they what? They had a guillotine? Do we know how the fuck they were going to do it?”

“We do know. We retrieved the video tape they were making – Hassan had a sabre… two of his men were holding Steve-"

“Holding Steve how?”

“He was on his knees.”

“I want to see the video.”

“Trust me Danny you don’t”

“You’re damn right I don’t but it’s not like I get to chose. This kind of thing could mess Steve up for life. If I’m going to have any chance of pulling him through it I need to know where he’s coming from. He’s sure as hell not going to open up and share anything about it with me. I need to see that video.”

“Danny I’m telling you-it’s … it’s unbearable to watch.”

“And I’m telling you, if he lived through it, I sure as hell can watch it.”

“You’re absolutely sure?”

“I am.”

Joe reaches in his pocket for his phone and pulls up the video. Danny’s confused when he asks if he has any earplugs but answers yes and hands them to Joe who connects them to his phone. “I probably shouldn’t be doing this-”

“Just give me the damn phone, Joe.”

And so, on a Wednesday afternoon at thirty thousand feet Danny watches one of most painful few minutes of video he has ever seen. The clip starts with Steve on his knees, bloody and beaten but with his jaw set and his body language announcing he’s not going to give his captors the pleasure of seeing him show any fear. “That’s the way, babe,” Danny whispers softly as he watches. And then, and Danny shouldn’t be surprised by it but he is, Steve makes one last, no holds barred rush at his captors. It buys him nothing except a punch to the gut that’s so hard it has got to be the one that burst his spleen. “Oh babe,” Danny murmurs as he watches an even bloodier, clearly weaker Steve forced back down on his knees. His arms are pulled out to the side at painful angles and he’s held there while Hassan rants and raves. The bastard goes on and on holding a sabre over Steve while he makes him wait for a piece of steel to sever his neck and end his life.

A change comes over Steve.

Danny sees it. His own throat closes up; he can barely breathe.

Joe had warned him it would be unbearable to watch this.

There is unbearable and then there is _this._

There are no words for this.

Danny slows the video to study Steve’s face. Now he’s no longer determined; he’s resigned. And he’s scared. His Steve. _Scared_. Tears rolling down his cheeks, head yanked back to expose his neck, he shudders and screams. It’s a raw, unbearable to hear scream as he braces for steel to slice through his trachea. Danny has to stop the video. He closes his eyes and tries to deep breathe around the vice that’s gripping his lungs. Joe reaches for his phone but Danny waves him off. After a few deep breaths he starts watching again.

Even when the door flies open and machine gun fire fills the room Steve’s ordeal isn’t over. Terror and confusion flood his face. It’s clear he’s not sure if the gunfire is friendly or not. As soon as his arms are released, like a wounded animal he drops to the ground and belly crawls for safety. Crouching under a table, still not sure if this is a reprieve or a delay, the look on his face is like nothing Danny has seen on anyone’s face… ever. Danny eyes fill as he hears Steve’s name being called and sees him try to make sense of it. Steve’s uncertain voice when he answers yes, he's Steve McGarrett  levels Danny. “Oh God Steve,” he whispers.

And then he loses it.

Then and there on that plane, in front of all those people, Danny begins to cry. Out of nowhere, hot insistent tears stream down his cheeks. Head bowed, with Joe’s arm around him, he cries so hard his whole body shakes.

Heads turn in the rows in front of him. Passengers behind him crane their necks. An attendant appears but leaves with an understanding nod when Joe gestures her away. She’s not fazed; these charter flights ferry servicemen and their families all over the world. Not infrequently, a passenger is overcome by grief. She’s grateful there’s someone with the man who’s crying now.

Danny is oblivious of anyone or anything. It’s one of the perks of gut wrenching pain. Nothing else matters Nothing else even registers. There’s a transitive property to this kind of pain as well. Joe’s one and only focus is Danny. He lets him cry it out and then gives him a napkin from the stack the flight attendant had been thoughtful enough to lay on his tray table. It takes five of them for Danny to dry his eyes and wipe his face. The front of his shirt is wet with tears when he finally sits back.

“I’m sorry, Danny,”

“Don’t be… I told you I wanted to see it. I’m… I’m not sorry I did.”

“Steve is strong Danny. He'll, he'll get through-.”

“Don’t. Please don’t pretend that's it's a given. You wouldn’t have shown me this if you weren’t worried about him.”

Joe’s silence tells Danny he’s right.

Both men sit without talking for a good five minutes. The flight attendant drops off two bottles of water and more napkins. Neither of them notice until later.

“You’re right,” Joe says finally breaking the silence. “I am worried about him. I don’t know if you’re aware of it or not but Steve’s been fighting PTSD for a while. It’s my opinion that he never really dealt with his father’s or Freddie’s deaths-both of which he blames himself for.”

“Hold on hold on a minute-go back. PTSD? You mean Post Traumatic Stress?”

“That’s right.”

“You said fighting- as in getting treatment?”

“No. I wish. As in staying up night after night, not being able to sleep. As in replaying the last minutes before Freddie and his Dad died over and over again in his head and second guessing himself.”

“And he told you all this?”

“He told me nothing. I guessed most of it and confronted him. He didn’t deny it. I know Steve. I know the SEAL mentality. I also know the signs of PTSD; I’ve seen it way too many times.”

“Oh God. I had no idea. I mean I’ve always known he does a lousy job of dealing with feelings-any kind of feelings and recently I had noticed he seemed different-distracted in a way but I had no idea.”

“No way you could have. He’s got years of training under his belt that make him a mastermind at hiding what he’s feeling. In fact, it’s more than likely _he_ doesn’t even know what he’s feeling.”

“And now this.”

Joe nods and notices the water bottles. “And now this. Here-have some water.”

After he takes a long sip Danny asks quietly, “What do think this is going to do to him?”

“I’m not sure. Undoubtedly he’s going to try and do what he always does which is repress the experience. Steve has a highly compartmentalized brain and his first move will be to try and file the whole thing away and throw out the key.”

“But some of those way back in the back compartments of his have already started to demand to be opened.”

Joe nods, “Well put.”

“So from your experience this PTSD is treatable? Guys get over it?”

“They do. It’s not easy and it’s not pleasant but they do.”

“How?”

“It takes a combination of therapy, lots and lots of therapy and carefully managed medications.”

“Oh man, two things our friend detests.”

Joe smiles sadly, “Unfortunately, you’re right.”

“Well he’s not going to have a choice.”

Joe eyes Danny carefully. “Oh really?”

“Yeah really. I’ve had it with pussy footing around. I’ve had some time to think over the past few days and I’ve come to a decision. “

“Which is?”

Danny lowers his voice and leans close to Joe, “Look, I love Steve, okay? I love him as a friend and a brother and if he’ll let me, maybe as something more. Even if that doesn’t pan out I’m not hanging back in the wings and watching him self-destruct. If I have to move in with him, If Grace and I have to spend every one of our free minutes with him and trust me Grace would be all for that, we’re doing it. There. I said it. Go ahead and be shocked or pissed or whatever.”

“I’m neither of those things Danny. In fact I’m relieved, more relieved than you can imagine.”

“Relieved? That’s it?”

“Well ecstatic too. You can throw in grateful and hopeful if you’d like.” A sly grins spreads across Joe’s face, “It took you long enough.”

“Which part?”

“To admit that you have feelings for Steve-and you know which kind of feelings I’m talking about.”

“It sure as hell took me a long time. In case you hadn’t noticed I’m a formerly married man, as in married to a woman.”

Joe chuckles again, “And Steve has a girlfriend, make that kind of a girlfriend.”

“Exactly what are you saying?”

“Sometimes we don’t understand who we really are until we’re well along this path called life. Sometimes it takes crashing headfirst into someone who is utterly perfect for us to realize what will make us truly happy.”

Danny stares at the seat in front of him, replaying Joe’s words. “So,” he finally ventures, “you think that I- that Steve and I would be good together?”

“I do.”

“That’s a pretty huge leap. I mean you reunite with one of your SEALs after years and years and suddenly decide, what? That he’s gay? That he should be in a relationship with a man?”

“There was no suddenly to it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve know Steve since he was a baby if you remember his dad and I were best friends.”

“I’m listening.”

“Steve confided in me, especially after his Dad sent him back to the states. I’m not a fan of labels and I’m no expert on sexuality but from the minute Steve hit puberty he was conflicted. He was a strapping masculine young man who all the girls were throwing themselves at and yet he had longings for something different.”

“Are you telling me he never really liked girls? What about Catherine.”

“Hold on I didn’t say that. He loved to flirt with the girls; he loved having girls as friend and vice versa. He just felt like there was something more. He first experimented while he was at the Academy and let me tell you, he had to be more covert at the time than he ever did on any intell mission.”

“I’m… I’m blown away so Steve is-”

“Like I said I don’t like labels. I’d venture to say there isn’t a label out there that truly describes Steve’s orientation. I do know that he has only had one truly meaningful relationship and that was with a man.”

“Really?”

Joe nods and takes a sip of water.

“And you’re telling me all this because…”

“Steve confides in me, Danny. He wants what you want but there’s no way he would risk losing your friendship by acting on his feelings. He’s done an incredible amount of ‘background checking’ if you would and he couldn’t turn up even the slightest hint that you might be interested in him in any way other than as a good friend.

Danny shakes his head at that. “Guess our buddy isn’t the only one who was very good at covert ops.”

“What?” Joe’s eyes instantly narrow, “Are you saying-”

“I’m saying I’ve messed around. I'm saying I was conflicted as you call it-back when I was a lot younger. Eventually I just threw in the towel and told myself to forget about it-that marrying a woman and having a family was the only way I was going to be happy-the only way my family was going to be happy. I guess history has shown I had some of that wrong.”

“So you managed to bury any desires you had for something different until now?”

“Make that until Steve.”

“I understand. The man is a force to be reckoned with.”

“So now you know.”

“And so now you know. I’m trusting you to handle what I've just shared delicately.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not sure exactly how or when I'm going to have a heart to heart with Steve but when I do it’s going to be about what I feel, not what anyone has told me. Knowing what I do is going to make it a lot easier to admit things, though.”

“That was the reason, the only reason, I shared what I did with you.”

“Thank you Joe, thank you from the bottom of my heart for doing it.”

“You’re more than welcome.”

When the plane lands a short while later passengers who catch glimpses of Danny and Joe’s faces are totally confused. They had unintentionally heard Danny’s heartbreaking sobbing and then not the words but the hum of a long, hushed conversation between he and Joe. More than one person stared when Joe and Danny pulled their luggage out of the overheads and smile at each other. Not yet old enough to know better, a little boy in an Avengers t-shirt voices the shared confusion out loud.

“Mommy?” he asks, staring up at Danny. “Is that the man who was crying?”

“Shh Matt.”

“Well is it?’

“I’m not sure sweetie.”

“I don’t think he is. He doesn’t look sad enough.”

____________~_____________

 

It takes hours to get through customs and arrange transportation to the hospital at Landstuhle. Knowing Steve’s habit of getting into trouble when he lets him out of his sight Danny is a nervous wreck by the time their taxi drops them off at the hospital’s main entrance. He and Joe practically race to the information desk and both ask at the same time how to find Steve.

“I’ll take you to him,” a white haired woman in a pink smock offers, coming around from behind the desk. “You gentlemen look a little too worried to navigate this place by yourselves.”

She’s right.

The hospital is a vast complex with connector bridges and color-coded directional signs everywhere. Even Joe is confused.

“Here we are”, the volunteer finally says stopping in front of a set of double doors. “Step Down Unit” she say, pointing to a sign above the door, “That’s such good news.”

Danny and Joe frown at her, honestly not knowing what she’s talking about.

“It takes some of the boys weeks to make it here from the ICU after they’re flown in,” she explains.

They catch on and thank her and then practically race for the nurses’ station. A corpsman behind the desk recognizes Steve’s names as soon as they ask for him. “You’re in luck he says. “They’re just bringing him back from Xray.”

“X ray? Why was he getting an Xray?” Danny’s heart is already in his throat. Again.

“Don’t worry it was just a precaution. The flight here hit some pretty bad turbulence. They just wanted to be sure his fractures haven’t been displaced.”

“Bad turbulence?” Danny immediately imagines Steve being bounced and jostled so badly he’s writhing in pain or throwing up or both. “So is he okay? I mean no worse than he was?”

“Oh I’d venture to say he’s probably better,” the corpsman says with a grin. “The flight doc came up with a special ‘cocktail’ of pain meds to keep your friend comfortable. When they rolled him off to Xray he was still coming down from it.”

Before Danny can ask exactly what that means, the double doors behind them open.

“Well look who’s back”, the corpsman says.

Expecting a heavily sedated barely conscious Steve, Danny whirls around.

 _Welcome to cuckoo-ville_.

Danny’s jaw practically drops when he sees Steve. “Well look at you,” he says sprinting over to him.

“Hey Dann-oo,” Steve slurs with a loopy grin. No grimace. No gray pallor. Even a little color back in his cheeks.

“Hey yourself. How are you doing?”

“I’m f-fine.” Steve’s eyes are droopy but he keeps smiling. “I jus had’a xray.”

“So I hear. Everything okay?”

“I dunno.”

“Everything’s good, the corpsman pushing Steve’s stretcher says. “The doc said all his repairs held.”

“That’s good news,” Joe says coming over and joining Danny.

Apparently SEAL training trumps even the most creative narcotics because Steve straightens up and tries to look serious. “Hey Joe.”

“Good to see you son. You seem to be feeling better?”

“I feel fine. I think I can go home t’day.”

“I think we’ll give it a few more days,” Joe laughs.

“We better get you back to your room, Commander,” the corpsman says starting down the hallway.

“Hey, don’ lose my friens.”

“Don’t worry you lunatic, we’re right behind you.”

“Well someone seems to be none the worse for the wear,” Joe chuckles.

“Someone seems to be loopy as hell,” Danny answers. “And let me just say I got not problem with it.”

“Nor do I.”

________~________

No surprise, it’s not all puffy clouds and rainbows at Landsthule.

The skillful mix of narcotics that has Steve so delightfully loopy when he first arrives wears off is replaced by a less generous regimen. It keeps him comfortable for the most part but he still feels the tube in his chest every time he inhales.

When he coughs?

Well it pretty much feels like a knife going into his side.

Steve’s a pro at tolerating pain though and doesn’t complain. The first two days he mostly sleeps and sucks on the ice chips that Danny spoons into his mouth whenever he resurfaces. Day three takes a turn in the wrong direction when his temperature suddenly spikes. Worried about an infection his doctor orders labs and x rays and stops by to listen to his lungs every few hours which makes Danny worry like crazy. Eventually all the tests come back negative and they tell Danny that sometimes it just happens after surgery, that patients just spike fevers. It’s halfway reassuring but Danny doesn’t stop worrying. He wants Steve better. Better enough to have a very important talk with him.

______~_____

Steve’s doctor has decided he can graduate from ice chips to something called _Clears_. In med speak it means clear liquids. In Steve’s mind it’s a cruel insult.

“This is not breakfast, Danny. Who eats Jell-O for breakfast?”

“Not a fan of Jell-O, Commander?” his nurse asks.

“No.”

“I don’t blame you. Why don’t I go down to the kitchen and see if I can put together something you might like?”

“What I’d like is real food.”

“I know. I’d love to give you some too but I wouldn’t be doing you any favors. Let me go see what I can up with.”

“Would you look at that,” Danny says after Steve’s nurse grabs his tray and leaves the room. “She’s going to all that trouble just for you.”

“She can save herself the time if it’s still going to be just liquids.”

“We’ve had this chat before babe. _You_ haven’t eaten in days. _You_ chow down on a burger and I’m telling you-you’re gonna be barfing it up into one of those little funny kidney shaped basins in no time.”

“Gross Danny.”

“I’m just telling you the truth.”

“And I’m telling you-”

Steve stops in mid sentence grabbing the small pillow lying next to him and pressing it against his middle just as he starts to cough. Eyes squeezed shut he grimaces each time he coughs.

Danny goes from happy to worried in a heartbeat.

This is a bad one.

By the time Steve stops coughing he’s greyish and sweaty. Eyes closed he drops back against his pillows with a groan.

“That looked like it hurt,” Danny says. “You need some pain med?”

“No… just give me… a sec.”

“You’re holding your breath babe, you know what they told you about-“

“What going on gentlemen?”

Like an all-knowing good fairy, Steve’s nurse suddenly appears. She can't set down the tray in her hands fast enough.

“Uh Steven here had a little, make that a pretty big coughing fit and it looks to me like he could use some pain medicine.”

“Is that true Commander?”

“No,” Steve grits.

The nurse scans the monitors over his bed. “Modern technology begs to differ, your heart rate is up and your sats are down.”

Opening his eyes only partway, Steve scowls at her.

“You’re not getting as much oxygen as you should Commander. You need to take deep breaths. I’m going to have the respiratory folks come and see you.”

That turns Steve’s scowl into a flat out frown but he takes a deep breath anyway which of course hurts like hell even though he tries to hide the fact.

Danny feels bad for him. This has been a tough couple of days-especially for a guy who likes to believe he can bounce back like a certain bunny on TV commercials. “Come on babe, let her give you a little of the good stuff,” he whispers to Steve.

“What do you say Commander?”

“O—kay,” Steve rasps. “But not too much, please.”

“You got it.”

As his nurse draws up the pain med Danny runs his hand over Steve’s forehead. “I don’t get why you fight it like this. It’s not like you’re going to get hooked on the stuff.”

“I just don’t like… the way it makes me feel.”

“You like the way pain feels better?”

“No. It’s just…, oh forget it.”

The way Steve seems to surrender as he sinks back against the pillows makes Danny feel like an idiot. “Never mind babe. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to bust your chops.”

“There you go Commander,” Steve’s nurse says, “I just gave you enough to take the edge off.”

“Okay…thanks.”

Danny watches the lines in Steve’s forehead relax and hears the monitor behind him slow down and is grateful. Poor guy. He’s never seen anyone fight pain meds like this. He’s going to ask Joe about this aversion of Steve’s; something tells him it’s about more than being a super SEAL.

______~_____

 

“Yeah, there’s a reason” Joe says when Danny asks him.

“Care to share with the rest of the class?”

“It stems from something Steve went through about two years before his dad was killed.”

Already feeling sick Danny asks, “What happened?”

“Steve was on loan to the CIA and par for the course, the mission went bad.”

“I don’t want to hear this but I got to hear this. Go on.”

“So the op was about taking out one very nasty character named Joaquin Guzman who was hiding out in Honduras. At the time Guzman was responsible for at least half of the heroin and cocaine free flowing into he US.”

“I’m guessing the op didn’t succeed?”

“It did not. The CIA in all its wisdom elected to proceed despite the fact the weather in the AO was deteriorating-“

“I’m sorry-AO?”

“Area of operations.”

“Okay go on.”

“So Steve was on sniper duty and given the worsening conditions had to take up a position dangerously close to Guzman’s compound.”

“Don’t tell me. They got him?”

“They did, not through any fault of his own. Guzman’s men were waiting for him; it turns out the CIA’s source was working both sides and had tipped him off. Steve was taken alive but the rest of the team was killed. After Guzman’s men beat the crap out of Steve they took him in to Guzman so he could have a turn.”

“Oh God. I hate this so much.”

“I’m sorry Danny but it gets worse. When they finished with Steve-under the guise of being merciful the bastards shot him full of high-grade heroin. At the time it was merciful because his jaw was broken and his arm had been yanked clean out of the socket. Unfortunately, given the weather, it took three days to get an extraction team in there so by the time they got him out of there he was completely hooked.”

“But at least not feeling any pain.”

“Not at first.”

“What do you mean? You got him into a hospital right away didn’t you? He detoxed with meds didn’t he?”

“We wanted to do it that way but it wasn’t possible. The extraction team came in by water. Steve was too badly injured to go out that way. With the weather as lousy as it was, choppers couldn’t land for days. The team with Steve had to hide out in the jungle outside of Guzman’s compound and hope the weather cleared before his men found them. They had morphine in their packs, which they gave Steve but that was gone before the end of the first day. Steve spent next thirty hours vomiting and shitting himself and batting away imaginary spiders. They had to gag him so he wouldn’t blow their cover.”

“Oh God,” Danny can’t look at Joe. He feels like he wants to put his fist through a wall and cry at the same time.

“I’m not telling you this to upset you Danny. I’m telling you because you love Steve and that means you need to know all the different shades of black and blue and purple that he’s made up of. You’re the first person in a very long time who I think can deal with what makes Steve, Steve.

“Don’t just think it,” Danny corrects Joe as he blinks back tears. “Know it.”

_______~_______

Slowly but surely, in fits and starts, progress is made at Landstuhle. On Steve’s fifth day there, Italian Ice and chicken broth are finally replaced by _real food_ as Steve calls it. Danny tells him to go slow as he hungrily eyes a grilled cheese sandwich and cup of tomato soup that’s been put in front of him.

Warning ignored, Steve wolfs down half the sandwich and most of the soup in two minutes.

“So I take it that tasted good?”

“Uh huh,” Steve grunts as he drinks from a carton of cold milk.

Just watching him eat and drink and make the happy noises he’s making makes Danny feel all kinds of good. The guy is a decorated Navy SEAL with more kills under his belt than some platoons and yet here he is, looking like an eight year old chowing down on his favorite lunch. A little color is back in his cheeks; the hateful chest tube is finally gone. Danny doesn’t want to jinx things but it sure feels like they’re finally catching a break-like they just might be getting out of this place soon.

Enter the fits and starts thing.

“What, you’re full?” Danny asks when Steve suddenly sets his milk carton down.

“Yeah.”

“Wait a minute-what’s wrong?”

Danny gets the kidney shaped basin to Steve just in time.

What happens after he does isn’t pretty.

Fast forward-they put him back on a liquid diet and make him baby step his way up to real food.

Funny thing? Steve doesn’t balk.

Turns out, one thing he really, _really_ hates is tossing his cookies.

“So how’d you like the poached egg?” Danny asks him the next morning.

“It was fine.”

“You feel okay?”

“I feel fine.”

“You seem a little… pissed off?”

“I’m not. I just want to go home.”

_Hold on._

When Steve gives Danny the look he gives him and his shoulders slump the way they are, it about kills Danny. “I want that too, babe,” he tells him. “Believe me, I want it as much-as you do. Don’t worry-it’s gonna happen soon.”

Steve looks at Danny like he doesn’t believe him.

Not thinking if he should or shouldn’t, just doing what feels right, Danny reaches over and cups Steve’s chin, running his thumb over his stubbled cheek.

“What Danny?”

“It’s just… it’s just-“

“It’s what?”

“It’s time for you and I to have a little talk.”

____~_____

There’s the kind of talking most people do effortlessly and calmly throughout the day and then there’s the kind that Danny and Steve do over the next twenty minutes. Their version shares the attributes of mile high roller coaster rides or million dollar casino bets. There’s no shortage of anxiety which at times morphs into outright terror but in the end there’s also relief and gratefulness and that general giddiness you get when despite all odds, things turn out pretty much perfectly.

When Danny tells Steve he’s going to close the door first and then does it, Steve rears back and eyes him warily. “You’re starting to worry me, Danny.”

“Well don’t worry. I hope to hell you’re going to like what I got to tell you.”

“You’re finally going to let me teach you how to surf?”

“Nope. I know how to surf.”

Steve rolls his eyes but doesn’t laugh. His ribs have him too well trained.

“Okay, so here’s the thing, babe,” Danny says leaning over side railing of Steve’s bed, not touching him but close enough to read every single message on still battered, still gorgeous face. “You and I, we, have become incredibly good friends. I kind of think of you as my best friend.”

“Same here- I mean you know.”

“I’m glad , no make that , I’m ecstatic to hear that.”

“This is what you want to talk about?”

“Hold on. Give me a sec. It’s not all I want to talk about. You see, a week or so ago when I was up there about 30,000 feet on the way to try and find you I had about eight hours to do some serious soul searching. I was pretty much terrified every minute of those eight hours because there was a good chance we weren’t going to bring you home-at least not alive.”

“Come on Danny that’s not-“

“Hush. Don’t interrupt. Please.”

Steve nods. He even looks contrite which is adorable and gives Danny the encouragement to go on. “So I kind of analyzed my terror since I couldn’t seem to shake it. Why, I asked myself, why am I so damn scared? I came up with the easy answers-you’re my best friend and you’re in danger blah blah blah. But the way I felt, the way I kept seeing you in my mind and picturing the things we do together and feeling flat out terrified that we'd never do them again told me to dig deeper, which I did and that’s when I finally admitted to myself that...."

"That what?"

"That there was more.”

"Go on."

After he takes a deep breath Danny does go on but what he’s trying to say is so supercharged with emotion he stutters and falters like a man carrying too heavy a load. “I realized that the… uh, feelings I have for you are more than best friend feelings. I’m going to mess this up- I know it…but here goes. What I want to say… what I realized up there on that plane and down here these last few days is… well it’s that I love you, Steve. Real, heart racing, butterflies in my stomach, trouble behind my zipper kind of love. There. I said it.” A tear rolls down Danny’s as he takes Steve’s hand in his. “And I… I hope with my entire heart that just maybe you and I can take a stab at something bigger and better than just being friends. Call me crazy but if I spent the rest of my life with you it would be pretty much perfect.”

Tears must be contagious. They fill Steve’s eyes as they continue to dampen Danny’s cheeks. “Come on, say something Steve, you’re kind of killing me here.”

“I’m… I’m surprised. I never… I never thought you-us-I wanted, sure but I didn’t-“

“Well you’re not making a lot of sense but the knot in my chest is loosening a little.”

“It should. It should disappear Danny. I’ve dreamed about what you just said you wanted for years but I knew it was impossible that you … that you-“

“Didn’t like guys.”

“Well yeah”

“Well I didn’t but I had, just a little bit, a long time ago, and when I met you it was like well it all came back like a damn avalanche. It was weird as hell, I honestly thought I was completely over that little chapter –that it had just been an experimental stage or something.”

Steve grins through his tears, “But I jump-started things so to speak?”

“You sure as hell did . Look at me. Holding your hand and blubbering that I love you. Yeah you jump-started things all right.”

Shaking his head Steve’s smile widens until his eyes crinkle. “Well that’s about the best news I ever heard.”

“So you think we can do this?”

“I know we can. I want to make you happy Danny. I want to take care of you, of you and Grace.” Suddenly Steve stops, “What about Grace, Danny what do you think she’ll think?”

“Well I’ve thought about that a lot too. Believe me. I’ve thought about my sisters and brother and parents too.”

“And.”

“And the bottom line is they love me. I know they do. So I’m thinking they’re going to be okay with it. Probably surprised at first, maybe shocked, but they’ll get over that and get used to seeing me happy and that will make them happy. As far as Grace I’m not so worried because she seems to have figured things out before I did.”

“In what way?”

“Oh in a lot of ways. She’s always remarking how happy I seem when you’re around. How I get a little cranky if you’re away for very long.”

The pleased little huff Steve gives makes him grimace but it he doesn’t care.

“She also regularly strikes up conversations about men having marriages and families and how nice that is. Not a week goes by she doesn’t point out some photo of Elton John or that Doggey Howser guy holding his baby.”

“She’s a smart girl.”

“That she is.”

“Knock knock,”

Steve’s nurse on the other side of the door makes Danny grab tissues for both of them.

“Come in,” he says as he blows his nose.

“Just checking on you, Commander,” she says. “Everything okay?”

“Everything is… fantastic,” Steve answers.

She frowns, not missing his red rimmed eyes. “You sure?”

“I’m sure. I’m great.”

“You don’t need any pain medication?”

“Nope.”

“Okay then, I’ll leave you alone.”

“Thanks.”

As soon as she’s out the door, before the door closes behind her, Steve reaches up and pulls Danny close enough to give him a soft sweet kiss on the lips. There are cuts on his lips and his face is still swollen and sore so he breaks it off quickly but it’s more than enough to make Danny grin, as he would say, like a doofus.

“I love you Danno," Steve tells him.

“Right back at’cha you big gorgeous goof.”

_______~______

When she gets back to the nurses station Steve’s nurse looks for her friend Ann and signals for her to come to the break room. As soon as Ann gets there she asks, “You know what I told you about my guy in 713?”

“The drop dead handsome one?”

“Yeah.”

“About he and that other guy being together?”

“Exactly. Well  I think I was right. Just now when I went in the room it looked like they both had been crying but there was this vibe in the room you know the kind you get when you walk in on couples who are just so damn happy that they've dodged the bullet-that they're gonna get to go home and do all kinds of boring wonderful together?"

“Oh man. There goes another good one.”

“Yeah but I've got to say I’m happy for them-from what I've seen they're pretty much perfect for each other.”

"As much as I hate to say it, I kind of have to agree with you."

 

________~________


	3. Chapter 3

After the nurse leaves, Danny decides, since he’s already gone for broke and won, why not gamble a little bit more. He starts jiggling the railing on Steve’s bed, trying to get the stubborn thing down as he tells Steve to scoot over a little. When the railing finally gives way and Steve hasn’t moved, he tells him again, “Come on babe, scoot over.”

The confused look Steve gives him is genuine; he still has enough morphine in his system to make connecting the dots challenging. Eying Danny for an explanation, he grabs hold of his side and very carefully shifts a few inches over.

“That a boy,” Danny tells him. “I just need a little room so I can climb in there with you.“

"Help... your...self,” Steve grunts.

“Thank you,” Danny says settling in next to him, "Don't mind if I do."

_So the first time they’re in bed together it’s in a hospital bed?_

Okay this is something that needs to be documented or duly noted or in some way entered in the record books. Steve’s got tubes and wires crisscrossing his chest. He’s got an IV in the back of his hand and a huge ass bandage strapped across his middle. It’s definitely not Danny’s go-to image the countless times he’d imagined the moment, but the thing is?

He could care less.

As far as he’s concerned, lying next to Steve even with all the medical crap attached to him is just perfect,thank you very much. The only thing he wants to change is their height difference, which he does by pressing his heels into the mattress and shifting up until he can slide his arm around Steve's shoulders. He does it easily, like they’ve been comfortable sharing the same bed for a while. “Okay,” he says as he sinks back against the pillows, “So this is good, right?”

“Yeah, this is… good.”

“You’re sure you’re okay? I’m not hurting you am I?”

“No. I’m… fine.”

No way is he taking Steve for his word. He leans forward and eyes him suspiciously; searching for even the slightest hint that he’s hurting but thank God or Allah or whichever Kahuna is on duty, he comes up empty. Even better, the lines that had been etched across Steve’s forehead have softened. His breathing is slower and deeper. Everything about him seems calmer, quieter.

_Thank God._

“That's it, just chill, babe," he tells Steve and lets his fingers start roaming through his hair. When Steve settles in against him with a little hmmm sound, he pretends to feel threatened, "Hey now, don’t’ go trying any funny business.”

That gets a soft huff. “Trust me, D,” Steve grunts. “Right now...right here, you’re safe.”

“Oh I am, am I?”

“You are. But I got... no guarantees... once we get home.”

“I’m good with that,” Danny says leaning in to kiss Steve on the forehead. “As far as I’m concerned you can do whatever you want to once we get home."

“What...ever?” Steve asks rearing up with a bleary but slightly naughty look on his face. 

“Within reason you, dummy.”

Steve smiles and drops back down, his eyes already starting to droop. Danny kisses his forehead again and then begins to gently massage his scalp. In no time, Steve’s eyes are closed. Danny continues threading his fingers through Steve’s hair, keeping his touch feather light just in case he skims over a hidden bruise or cut. “That's it babe,” he murmurs. “I got you.” As he feels Steve sink against him and hears his breathing deepen he thinks to himself.

_This here?_

This is heaven.

____~____

_Just after lunch, the next day…_

“Commander McGarrett?”

“Yes.”

Danny looks up from the recliner beside Steve’s bed where he’s been reading the paper. The man in fatigues in the doorway doesn’t surprise him; Joe clued him in yesterday. What he is surprised by is the what-the-hell-do-you-want- look on Steve’s face.

_Easy buddy._

Maybe Steve’s still pissed after the Marine Colonel and the CIA guy came barging in on him back in Bagram? Something sure has him on high alert.

“I’m Dr. Echols,” the man says. “I head up Operation Re-Entry here at Landsthule, I was wondering if you and I might talk for a few minutes?”

The scowl on Steve’s face deepens. “I’m not sure I know what Operation Re-Entry is,” he says.

“It’s a program we’ve put in place to help servicemen deal with their injuries before they head home-specifically the emotional impact of their injuries.”

“I think there’s been some confusion,” Steve answers. “I’m not active duty and, even if I was, what put me here didn’t have all that much of an emotional impact."

Echols nods but doesn’t make any move to leave. Instead he lets his eyes travel across Steve’s bruised and cut face and down to his heavily bandaged mid-section. When he sees the blood filled plastic tubing jutting out from under the bandage he pauses for a second and then follows it to collection device hanging on the side of his bed. “I don’t know,” he says, eyes locked on the blood filled canister, “From the looks of things you took quite a beating.”

“It wasn’t that big of a deal. I'm pretty sure there are a lot of guys here who need your help more than I do.”

“I appreciate you putting your fellow soldiers ahead of yourself, Commander but I think you and I really should talk seeing as I received a direct order from General Halsted, that we do.”

Steve rears back in surprise. “I have no idea who General Halsted is,” he counters. “And, no offense but what if I refuse to have this chat with you?”

Joe had never mentioned Frank Halsted to Steve. There had never been any need to tell him about the man whose life he saved over twenty years ago.

Echols shrugs and says, “I mean that’s your prerogative-if you want to do that but General Halsted happens to be our base commander and has asked your doc to hold off discharging you until we talk.”

Steve’s expression turns angry. The monitor on the wall behind him starts beeping faster. When a little orange warning light starts flashing, Danny speaks up. “Come on Steve, what could it hurt to have a little talk. It’ll only take a few minutes. How about this? While you and the major here chat, I’ll go get you a milkshake from the commissary. I’ll even throw in one of those tasty chicken wraps you like. How’s that sound?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“But you will be eventually and if I don’t go get something for you you’ll be stuck with another one of those dinner trays that kinda sorta turn your stomach.”

Echols steps into the room, hand outstretched toward Danny. “Brian Echols, I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name?”

“Danny Williams, I’m Steve’s partner.” Danny’s not sure if Joe clued the guy in on all the details or not, so he leaves it up to the head-shinker to figure out exactly what variant of ‘partner’ applies.

“Good to meet you. I hear you’ve been with Commander McGarrett ever since he was airlifted in?”

“I have been.”

“He’s lucky. It makes a world of difference to have loved ones here.”

Danny likes hearing ‘loved ones’. He wonders how Echols decides that’s the kind of partner he is but he’s so glad that it’s true he just smiles at the doctor and says honestly, “There’s no way I could stand to be anywhere else.” Turning to Steve, seeing his pained expression, he leans in over the side railing and whispers, “Come on babe, just talk to this guy for a few minutes. He seems tame enough. And then by the time I’m back with your dinner, you’ll have your ticket punched so we can get you out of here. Okay?”

The look Steve gives him is a little scary but Danny stands his ground. “I’ll see you in a few, babe,” he tells him and gives his hand a quick squeeze.

“Wait, I-“

Danny cuts him off. “Just talk, Steve. That’s all you got to do.”

______~______

 Echols is good at what he’s does.

Very good.

Unfortunately for him, Steve is better.

At least at first.

Echols asks and Steve evades and their session goes nowhere for about ten minutes. And then, since the slow and steady approach isn’t working, Echols cuts to the chase and asks, “So what was running through your head there at the end, right before your rescuers showed up?”

At first Steve acts like he doesn’t hear the question. He takes a deep breath and just looks down at the sheet covering him, running his thumb and forefinger back and forth over a section of the starched white cotton.

“Commander?” Echols asks.

“What do you think was running through my head?”

The way Steve asks the question makes it  more of an accusation than an inquiry but Echols doesn't flinch. "What I think isn’t important. What did you think was going to happen in those last seconds?"

“I…,” Steve closes his eyes and goes silent. After more than a few seconds he looks up and locks eyes with Echols and answers evenly, “I was sure they were going to kill me.”

"Whoa." After he says it Echols goes silent for a while. When he continues his voice is softer, "That's a hell of an experience to go through. It's going to take time to get over something like that."

Steve sounds pissed. "I'm already over it," he tells Echols. " I’m fine-I'm absolutely fine. You  can go tell your General friend exactly that-I'm fine.”

Echols nods and then says, “So let me get this straight. Being held captive, tortured and very nearly executed hasn’t left even a trace of emotional debris?”

“Only an idiot would say that." Steve snaps. "Of course there’s _debris_ as you call it. Of course I think about it, sometimes even have nightmares about it, but I know how to handle it. I’ve been trained to pick myself and move on-it's a requirement of the job.”

“Tell me about your training, what is it you do when you’ve been through a traumatic experience like this so you can, as you say, pick yourself up and get on with things.”

“I don’t know, it’s not anything particular.”

"But how is it that you can just _move on_?”

“I guess I kind of create a file in my head. I tell myself not to go there anymore. If I have flashbacks or dreams I just give myself a mental order to stop.”

“And that works?”

“Most of the time.”

“So are there similar ‘files’ in your head, for example, for the op in which Commander Hart was killed and the one during which your father was killed?”

It’s a good thing Danny isn’t in the room to see the way they air goes out of Steve-the way his eyes cloud over and his shoulders suddenly go limp. Not looking at Echols he says softly, “I don’t want to talk about either of them.”

“I’m sorry to bring up painful experiences from your past Commander but it’s necessary.”

“You’re wrong about that but since I have to do this to get out of here, okay fine, yes I’ve filed away Freddie and my father’s deaths-I try not to think about them-to just get on with my life.”

“And before this trip to Afghanistan how was it going-your life, I mean. Would you say you were mostly happy, that you slept well, that you had a general sense of well being?”

“Yeah… sure.”

“One of your former SEAL instructors feels that’s not quite true.”

Steve looks up. He doesn’t have to ask who Echols is referring to. “You said mostly. So I might have had a few sleepless nights.”

“And flashbacks?”

“Joe White should learn to keep his mouth shut.”

“I’m not sure I agree with that. Joe White cares about you very much, just like your country, the country you’ve made tremendous sacrifices for, cares about you. We owe it to you to give you what it takes to insure those sacrifices don’t keep you up at night, that they don’t leave you sitting in your car with your heart racing after a flashback blindsides you.”

“Good luck with that,” Steve says suddenly sounding hollow and numb.

“I hear you Steve. I know it seems like a crap shoot but trust me, there are ways, proven ways, to help you feel like you used to feel-to help you feel like yourself again.”

“Exactly what kind of ways?”

Echols takes it as a win that Steve even asks the question. He takes a deep breath before he answers.

"First of all there's counseling-both individual and family. Add to that medication-and bio-feedback and acupuncture. And that's just the beginning of a list of modalities that have proven effective. We have an incredible array of tools-all you have to do is be willing to see someone when you get back to Hawaii. It may not take very long at all or it may take awhile. If you feel that it’s not doing anything for you, you can stop anytime. My boss, Halsted, just wants to know that you’ll see someone when you get back.” Echols pulls a business card from his shirt pocket and hands it to Steve. “I’ve written contact info on here for a colleague of mine who works out of Hickham and for a civilian therapist in Honolulu. I personally know both men and they’re very good at what they do.”

“That’s it? I just have to tell you I’ll see someone?”

“That’s it. Of course you can say it and not mean it and I’ll be none the wiser but you’ll be missing out on the chance to get your life back on track. Not just for yourself but for your partner. Untreated PTSD eventually erodes even the strongest relationships-trust me I’ve seen it happen way to many times.”

“Fine, I’ll call one of these two.”

“Good.” Echols reaches his hand out and they shake. “I sincerely hope you do.”

“Knock knock?”

Danny’s voice on the other side of the door stops both of them.

“Come in,” Echols says.

“You still need more time?” Danny asks from the doorway.

“No,” Steve answers.

“We were just wrapping things up,” Echols agrees. “Take care Commander,” he says to Steve. “And good luck to you.”

“Thank you.”

Danny and Steve watch Echols leave without saying anything. Once the door closes Danny puts Steve’s dinner and milkshake on his tray table and then drops down in the recliner Echols just vacated. “So how’d it go with the shrink?”

“It was… fine.”

“Funny. You don’t look all that fine.”

Steve doesn’t answer right away. He watches drops of condensation trickle down the side of his milkshake. “To be honest,” he says looking over at Danny, “I’m not exactly sure how I am.”

“Talk to me babe, what’s going on?”

“Echols made me promise to see a therapist when I get home.”

Danny stands up. _Please let me play this right,_ he prays as he unwraps Steve’s food and puts a straw in his shake. “Why?”

“He thinks what I just went through might mess me up.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. What? You’re surprised?”

“No. I’m not surprised. I saw the damn video Steve- I know what went on-I was just expecting you to say something about him being all wrong.”

“Do you think he’s all wrong?”

Not looking at Steve, Danny answers softly, “No.”

“So you’re worried I might go off when we get back home?”

“It’s not really that you might go off that I'm worried about. What I am worried about, and it’s more concern than worry, is what kind of place your head might be in. You’ve been through a hell of a lot in your life, enough to, mess up your average human being a long  time ago. I’m just concerned that something’s gotta give-that some day you’re gonna start buckling under the weight of all the shit you’re carrying.”

“What exactly are you talking about Danny? I don’t get. Just what is this ‘hell of a lot’ that I’ve been through?”

_Bless his ever-loving heart._

“Well let’s see, I’m kind of a chronological thinker so I’ll start with your Mom dying, or so you thought, and you being shipped off to boarding school.”

“That was a long time ago-“

“Ep –ep – ep , let me finish. So you spend your adolescence without a family. Good luck coming through that unscathed. Then comes the Naval Academy, all by yourself. No mom and pop showing up for Family Weekend or Graduation or just stopping by to make sure you're okay. But somehow you get through that hellacious experience just fine and willingly up the ante and, trust me, I will never understand why, join the Seals. More power to you. You actually make a few close friends out of that group of crazies. And then one of those friends, a man you call your best friend is killed in an op that only you and he are in on. He forces you to save yourself, giving up his life to make sure you survive.

Danny locks eyes with Steve, "Say what you will, babe. No one is going convince me that experience won’t keep you up a few nights."

Steve says nothing so Danny continues. "Fast forward to four years ago and what happened to your Dad. I’ve got no idea how I would get through that if it happened to me and my Dad but somehow you kept trudging on. Not just trudging but leaping and flying and going all death defying as the head of our little Five-0 task force."

Danny pauses to give Steve a wan smile that isn't returned. The expression on Steve's face is hard to read but Danny pushes on, "And then because the bad news band just keeps playing on in your life, not even a year later another SEAL friend, a friend who I suspect you were closer to than you ever let on to, betrays you to the point you’re forced to kill him or be killed. Come on man, this is the stuff that messes up even the most together head. Fast forward, your Mom returns from the dead with no shortage of subterfuge and sneakiness and then just to top things off, Catherine drags you to Afghanistan to be tortured and if Uncle Sam’s finest hadn’t been on their A game, murdered. I’m not into raking up the painful past just for the fun of it Steve. I can see it on your face- you hate this. But you asked me so I told you. Don’t you see, babe? It is a hell of a lot. And through all of it you’ve always soldiered on, jaw set, eyes on the next mission, never giving yourself time to even begin to make sense of all the crap happening to you. I want you to stop, Steve. I want you to admit, even if it's just to yourself that you've been through a hell of a lot. "

"Why? What good will it do?"

"I don't know. I just know I love you and I want us to grow old together and  I don’t want all that you’ve been through to come back one day and rock or heaven forbid, tip our boat over."

Steve gives him a weak smile and says, “Nice nautical reference.”

“I thought you might like that.”

“Well you’ll be happy to know I really do plan to see someone.”

Danny smiles and shakes his head back and forth and says, "I am happy to hear that. I’m very happy.”

“You want to know what Echols said that made me decide to do it?”

“What?”

“He said if I didn’t get my head straight it would eventually mess us up-you and I-and I… I can’t stand to think of that.”

Danny pushes the tray table aside; Steve's dinner and milkshake are instantly forgotten. His eyes are moist as he leans over the bed’s side rail, “Oh babe, can I just tell you how much I love you?.”

Steve blinks hard as Danny kisses him. When they break away to look at each other, real smiles tease at the edges of their mouths.

“Hey Danny?” Steve asks.

“Yeah babe, what?”

“Any chance I can have that shake?”

Danny's eyes go wide with feigned indignation. “Oh sure, here let me get it for you right away. No way should we let my telling you how damn much I love you get in the way of you strapping on the feed bag.”

After he takes a nice long sip, Steve smiles, this time it’s one of his wide, ear to ear, eye crinkling smiles. “Oh you can keep telling me Danny, I just didn’t want the shake to melt.”

“Give me a taste of that thing you doofus.” Danny says and grabs the shake from Steve. After a long sip hands it back. “Wow that is good. Here try this wrap, I had them put some of your beloved avocado on it-tell me it doesn’t hit the spot."

"Oh man... so good," Steve  says between huge bites.

_This here?_

This is heaven.

______~_____

Most patients leave Landstuhle on stretchers-a few leave in wheelchairs. All of them fly out on huge C-30 transports reconfigured to transport wounded servicemen and staffed with teams of nurses and physicians that outnumber the flight crews. The topic of how to get Steve home is being discussed in his room.

It’s not going well.

“No, “ Steve says emphatically. “I’m not going home on one of those-you and I," he says, looking at Danny, "we’re going home on a regular plane with seats that recline and movie screens that drop down.”

“Oh really?” Danny answers. They’re in Steve’s room at Landstuhle- it’s a regular room, he’s been out of the step down unit for a day. Steve’s doc, who’s been taking care of him from the minute he was rolled in is with them.

No surprise he begs to differ.

“Much as I’d like to let you do what you what to do, Commander, it’s not a good idea.”

“Why?”

“You’ve only just gotten rid of that chest tube for one thing. It’s highly unlikely but what if you got into trouble during the flight home? Worst case scenario, what if your lung collapsed?”

“First it’s not going to happen and second, if it would make you happy, just train Danny, here, to use a pneumo needle.”

“A what?” Danny looks at Steve like he has two heads.

He’s been sitting up and talking for a while now so Steve’s starting to get tired and hurt a little. He winces when he answers, “I’m talking about this little needle device-all you’ve got to do is stab it into my chest if by some very unlikely chance my lung collapses.”

“Are you out of your damn mind?”

“Come on Danny. The greenest man on any team I was ever in knew how to use one-it’s not that hard-trust me even you can do it.”

“Well thank you very much for that vote of confidence, but what if I don’t want to do it? What if, by some crazy chance, I want medical professionals insuring that your lung, your LUNG, stays inflated?”

“I’m serious Danny. How about you do find Joe and start looking into booking us a flight?”

________~__________

_Two days later-Hawaiian  Airlines Flight 3443- First Class JFK to Honolulu..._

Joe got them booked first class on both flights using a medical necessity claim.

It’s not like he was misrepresenting things.

As much progress as Steve's made, he's still beat to hell. The five hour Frankfurt to JFK flight is behind them and even though it involved mostly sitting in very comfortable first class seats, Steve's exhausted; he doesn't  even fight the wheelchair escort that meets them as soon as they exit the plane. Danny is beside him as he drops down into the wheelchair and looks worried. For good reason.  He can see the way Steve's jaw is clenched, the way he's gripping the arms of the wheelchair. "You okay babe?" he whispers, leaning down so his lips are just inches from Steve's ear.

"I'm...okay," Steve answers."But I could.. use a pain pill."

_Okay that does a number to Danny's gut.  
_

"What hurts?," he asks.

"It's just my head-and my chest."

"You sure that's all?"

"I'm sure."

Danny tells the airline escort to stop and pulls a water bottle out of the back pack slung over his shoulder. Then he digs a pill bottle out of his pants pocket and shakes a white oblong tablet out onto his hand. "Here you go buddy," he tells Steve. "This will do the trick." Steve takes the pill from him and washes it down with a long gulp of water. Danny rubs the back of his neck as he does it, in not worried about getting to their gate or about the other passengers streaming past them.

He'll never know it because he never takes his eyes off Steve but more than a few of the people hurrying past them that day at JFK slow down and take a second look.

_It's hard not to._

There's a man in a wheel chair who looks like he lost more than one fights and yet despite the cuts and bruises on his face, it's impossible not to notice how breathtakingly handsome he is. . And then there's the muscular blonde man tending to him who is also easy on the eyes, but that's not what catches most eyes. The worry, the concern, the love being telegraphed between the two men is what does it.

You see a lot of things in airports-most of which you just ignore and hurry past but those two?

No way could you  help but notice them.

_____~____

The flight attendant  has scanned her flight manifest and seen the medical necessity indicator next to the name of the  passenger in 1-A. _Steven McGarrett._

When the first classs passengers start boarding she's expecting an elderly man-probably with oxygen tubing under his nose. When she sees who's being wheeled down the Jetway she takes a comic book-like second take.

_Okay this is not your usual medical necessity passenger._

Even though he's wearing sweat pants and a loose fitting t-shirt she can appreciate his muscular build; even though his face is bruised and criss-crossed with cuts there's no mistaking how incredibly handsome he is.

_Whoa._

She lets her gaze wander to the muscular blond man walking beside him and does a second double take.

 _Whoa,_ again. _  
_

She's not sure which man is more  intriguing.

Are they military? Maybe some kind of special ops guys?

Or, maybe they're family? Brothers? She's seen plenty who look nothing like each other.

Clearly the blonde man is worried about the man in the wheel chair- they way he leans in and whispers to him is touching; the way he rubs the back of his neck as he speaks to him seems almost intimate?

Wait.

_Are they lovers?_

She gives up trying to decide because they're practically in front of her.

Suddenly all of her attention is on the dark haired man as he gets up out of the wheel chair.

_Bless his heart._

It takes both the airline escort and the handsome blonde to help him to his feet.  Once he's up he drapes one arm over the blonde man's broad shoulders holds his other one tight against his middle. It  takes him a minute to get his bearings. As muscular and  fit as he is, he's clearly seen some rough times.  As he takes slow, careful steps toward her his coloring turns from pale to grey and for a second she wonders if he has any business flying. He must, she reminds herself. A physician's note was required to book him onto the flight.

It's just...it's just he looks... bad and, as crazy as it is, drop dead gorgeous at the same time _.  
_

"Welcome gentlemen," she says. "You're in the first row-right here. Is there anything you need-anything I can do for you?"

"If we can just get my friend seated and his seat reclined, that  would be good," the blonde man tells her. There's a anxious worried note to his voice that focuses her. "There," she asks as soon as the passenger is settled and she's reclined his seat. "Are you okay?"

"I'm... good," he answers sounding hoarse and exhausted and like he might be hurting.

_And those eyes?_

She wants to spend more time starring into them but there's no way he's _good._ She looks to the blonde man.

"Can we get him a little ginger ale with lots of ice -he's been feeling kinda nauseous."

"Absolutely. Right away," she answers.

It's crazy, she'll tell her friends later, but her hands shook when she poured the ginger ale and for the entire flight her thoughts barely returned to how gorgeous the passenger in 1-A was. He was, it was true but he wasn't well and the flight wasn't smooth and there was no time for anything but trying to help him get through it.

 _____~_______

_Honolulu International Airport_

It's been one hell of a long trip and it's involved more of those little barf bags than Danny would have liked it to but bottom line; they're home.

It's all he can do not to drop down and kiss the damn floor of the terminal.

No surprise, Kono and Chin are right there, waiting for them the instant they roll off the jetway.

Danny hasn’t said a thing to anyone about the revelations that went on between Steve and him and he’s pretty sure Joe hasn’t either so when Kono gives him a strange grin on their way out of the airport he’s honestly confused. When she adds a little wink to her widening grin he asks her, “Uh exactly what that was for?”

“Just letting you know I’m happy for you two.”

“You’re happy? As in happy I brought our fearless leader back in nearly one piece?”

They both glance up at their fearless leader whose wheelchair Chin is deftly steering through the crowded airport. For a second they catch their breaths and say nothing. Hunched over, one arm wrapped protectively around his ribs, their leader looks neither fearless or in one piece.

“For sure I’m happy about that bro-but I’m also happy about you know-”

“About I know what?”

“Come on Danny- don’t play stupid-you know- you and the boss-it’s about time.”

“It is?”

“You bet it is but we can talk about it later- here’s Kamekona.”

Danny has never been happier to see the big shrimp king coming toward them. Kamekono stops when he reaches Steve and Chin. His big grin fading he says, “Welcome home boss, you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine."

“Good to hear. So I  made you a special dinner-lots of garlic and lots of coconut-two of nature’s natural healers. I was going to bring it by tonight.”

Steve doesn’t answer.

“We appreciated that big guy, really we do,” Danny answers for him. “But is there any chance you can hold onto that feast and swing it by maybe tomorrow?”

Kamekona looks a little hurt.

Danny nods for him to lean down and whispers to him, “So the boss man here had kind of a rough time on the flight.” He points to his stomach. “Got a little air sick –I’m thinking just smelling your delicious garlic coconut concoction might set him off again.”

“Is that right? Poor guy. No worries, I’ll keep it on ice until tomorrow.”

“Thanks big guy.”

 _____~______

_Epilogue._

This time of year is usually pretty warm on Oahu. Even on the Southeast shore of the island, where the Maunalua Bay laps at the narrow strip of beach in front of the McGarrett home, evening temperatures barely dip below eighty degrees.

Tonight, for some reason, is different.

There’s a cool northerly breeze wafting the curtains in Steve’s room. His bed is in front of the window so the curtains billow and recede behind it like some kind of gently pulsing diaphanous wall.

Not that Steve or Danny notice.

It’s been four weeks to the day since Danny bought Steve home and although his deranged partner insisted he was ready for the real thing much sooner, as in on day five, tonight’s the night Danny finally agrees that yeah, it’s time to ramp up their careful, tiptoeing style of sex. Thngs had started to heat up down on the sofa where they had been watching a baseball game. Steve’s feet were in Danny’s lap and Danny was skillfully massaging them. No ulterior motives-no motives at all, just a nice, gentle foot massage.

_Right._

What Danny was doing to Steve's feet was sending  little pulses of pleasure straight to Steve's crotch and making him squirm and roll his ankles and wiggle his toes. Since his feet were in Danny’s lap, it only took a few minutes before Danny let out a little groan of his own.

“What’s wrong, Danno?”

“Nothing is wrong. It’s just that your feet are doing a hell of a number on my dick.”

Steve rears up to get a better look, pressing his heels ever so gently into Danny’s crotch as he does. A grin spreads across his face. “Seems something is getting kind of hard down there?”

“A little? ” Danny says shifting to evade Steve’s evil heels. “It looks like I’m not the only one sporting wood,” he says grinning at the bulge in Steve’s gym shorts.

“What can I say? I guess the foot bone’s connected to the dick bone.”

“The dick bone? There is no bone in a dick.”

“Then why is that hard thing in your shorts called a boner?”

“Oh God, you are incorrigible-so incorrigible I just might have to take you up to your room and put you to bed.”

Steve’s eyes light up. “Oh yeah? And what would you do once you got me there?”

“I don’t know, maybe let you do what you’ve been asking to do for weeks?”

“Really, Danny?”

“Yes, really but you got to take it easy seeing as you’re still getting over major surgery and my ass is virgin territory.”

Steve sits up, slides his legs off Danny’s lap and scoots over. He’s still a little sore so he clamps one arm around middle as he does it. “Oh I’ll take it easy,” he husks, leaning in to cup Danny’s chin and give him one of his patented deep throat kisses.

And that’s how they wind up minutes later naked on Steve’s bed with the curtains they aren’t looking at gently billowing behind them.

“Do you even know how many times I’ve dreamed about this?” Steve asks as he runs his fingers through the hair on Danny’s chest.

“I’m guessing about as many times as I have?”

“You have?“

“Yes," Danny tells him. "It's true-I've  dreamed of you fucking me about a thousand times-give or take.”

They’re on their sides, facing each other so it’s easy for Danny to reach down between Steve’s legs as he continues. “For your information," he tells him, "Since I landed on this island, this very nice looking, very ship shape cock of yours has starred in just about every one of my wet dreams .”

Steve huffs a pleased little laugh. “Interestingly,” he says, his fingers trailing over Danny’s abs, circling around his navel and then moving in between his legs, “this very attractive cock of yours has also enjoyed play time in just about every single one of my early morning dreams.”

“Oh shit,” Danny hisses, not because of what Steve just said but because of the way he just wrapped his fingers around his dick.

“You like that D?”

“Did I like that? Jesus, Steve, enough with the stupid questions. Come on already, are we gonna-“

Steve silences Danny by kissing him hard and moving his hand away so he can press his own rock hard erection against Danny’s. He slides an arm under him and pulls him close and then undulates his hips in a slow but insistent motion that makes their dicks gently grind against each other.

It’s practically killing Danny.

He wants to warn Steve to take it easy-that his stitches haven’t been out that long but Steve’s tongue is doing dangerous things in his mouth and the sensations coursing through him are pretty much short-circuiting his ability to speak. It’s better than he ever imagined it would be, their naked bodies fit so perfectly together–like they were made for this. Feeling Steve’s incredibly strong arms around him, pressing against his carved body is beyond intoxicating. He feels likes he’s spinning out of control-like no way could this be real.

Steve’s hoarse voice in his ear reminds him just how real it is, “Are you sure Danny," he asks, I can really do it?”

"Are you kidding me? Right now I swear to God I'd let you do any and everything you wanted to.”

Steve's grin is priceless. Danny worries for a second that he's going to shift into SEAL mode and stage a lightning fast attack on his poor, inexperienced ass.

He should have known better.

Over the next ten minutes Danny can barely stand the slow and careful job Steve does getting him ready. Steve’s lubed hands are everywhere- his fingers are wrapped around Danny's stiff cock and up inside him and all over him. Steve is stretching him and massaging his sweet spot and basically killing him softly and sweetly in a million different ways.

When he's finally done and Danny is pretty much moaning non-stop, Steve drops down between Danny’s legs. The only light in the room comes from candles on the bedside table. "You ready for me, D?" Steve asks and  Danny nods that he is.

There’s no hesitancy in the way Steve proceeds. He's a master and an artist and knows exactly what he's doing. He grips Danny’s ankles, pulling him so he’s almost balanced on his shoulders and looks down at him. "Just breathe for me D," he tells him. "That's all you have to do."

And then like he weighs half of what he does, Steve pulls Danny's legs up and spreads them wide. Danny closes his eyes and takes a slow deep breath.

"Good," Steve husks and then his entire backside goes rock hard as hollows his buttocks and thrusts forward. Using no hand to guide himself, aiming his rock hard cock like another man would point a finger, he enters Danny. As soon as he breeches his first ring of muscle he slows and tells Danny, "That's it Danny. You're so amazing. Just get used to me."

"No," Danny groans. "Need you deeper, now!"

"Shhh, I got you babe, just relax," Steve tells him and slowly, carefully thrusts a little deeper.  Danny hisses at first because there's a burning, stretching sensation but as soon as Steve hits his sweet spot that fades away and he lets out a shocked, grateful moan. “That a boy,” Steve tells him. “Oh God you feel so damn good.”

Danny can’t speak. His body is on fire.

Steve is inside of him.

_Inside of him._

_Steve._

That long, sculpted dick of his is gliding in and out of him-connecting the two or them in an out of this world, toe-curling, breath-stealing way. It's not just gliding in and out of him-it's getting harder and bigger and hitting a raw nerve way up inside of him that's making his own dick throb and rut in the air.

And the strange thing is?

As deep as Steve is he wants him deeper, as close as he is to coming he needs more to do it and reaches to stroke himself.

“No Danny, let me,” Steve tells him, hooking one of his legs over his shoulder so his hand is free to take Danny’s dick and slowly start to pump it. He keeps the pressure light at first, pausing to tilt his hips and drive his cock just a little deeper each time he enters him

“Oh God!” Danny gasps, sounding shocked and maybe a little scared.

“It’s okay D,” Steve tells him. “l’m gonna fuck the cum out of you and you’re gonna love it.”

And that’s just what he does.

Over and over again Steve thrusts up into Danny. Quicker and quicker his hand moves up and down Danny’s engorged cock.

And then Danny screams.

It’s a sound he’s never made before. Not in his entire life. It’s raw and animal like and a perfect blend of agony and ecstasy. His entire body goes rigid; his leg hooked over Steve’s shoulder locks and his heel digs into Steve’s back. Hands fisted, eyes squeezed shut he gives into the wave of pleasure that’s exploding in his groin.

“That’s it,” Steve tells him. “Go with it D, ride it out!"

And ride it out he does.

Like a surfer on a perfect wave.

He might be grimacing but what he's feeling is the absolute antithesis of pain.

Steve smiles down at him and with sweat dripping off his forehead, slows his thrusts but keeps them deep and right on top of Danny's sweet spot until he goes limp and quiet. Only then does he let himself cum, grunting and gasping and all but collapsing on top of Danny it feels so incredible. 

There's a lull of sorts after that as both of them float on an endorphin/dopamine fueled cloud.

Danny's the first to resurface. After he gazes at Steve for a few seconds he slips into his in-charge mode and gets up off the bed to clean them both up. Steve doesn't fight him.

Steve can't fight him. He's boneless and spineless and barely feeling anything at all. Kudos to the powers of good, make that great sex.

Danny finishes cleaning them up and drops down beside Steve and murmurs in his ear, "So is this what I have to look forward to for the rest of my life?"

Sounding sleepy and content and very, very happy, Steve says, "Hell yeah... babe."

___~___

fin

 

 


End file.
